


centricide and realicide oneshots! (CLOSED)

by eggslut420



Category: Realicide - Grej (Web Series), The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, No Smut, istg if u request smut, like im 13 dude im not writing smut for u, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggslut420/pseuds/eggslut420
Summary: request oneshots in the comments
Relationships: Anarcho-Capitalist/Communist (Centricide), Anarcho-Capitalist/Libertarian (Centricide), Anarcho-Communism/Communism (Centricide), Commoralism, Egopostie, Left Unity
Comments: 27
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

hey!! im doing oneshots for realicide and centricide, request em in the comments.  
rules/boundaries:  
NO SMUT  
im not writing ships including homonat, nazi or conservative simply bc i think they should die alone and also bc it makes me uncomfortable  
no graphic gore shitnothing too weird

thats it!! request away <33

also im not the greatest writer,, im 13 go easy on me lmfao


	2. vodka bottles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW ALCOHOLISM  
> tankie angst oneshot for an anon  
> tankie is sad lol what a loser  
> this is short bc i am impatient

The rest of the world seemed so incredibly far away from Commie. He was isolated from the outside world, after the Centricide had abruptly disbanded. Every day, the smiles of his old friends in that picture frame (which was slowly collecting dust) seemed more and more distant. He used to find comfort in the photo, but now it just upset him beyond the already awful state he was in. Commie was no longer thinking rationally as he once did. His mind was clouded with dark, muddy thoughts that used to be clear.

So, there he was, downing his third vodka bottle of the day, in an attempt to speed up the process of his problems withering away. It didn’t work, he knew it wouldn’t, but he was too deep into addiction to stop. The bottles were no longer comforting or reminders of hope. The bottles, now, were symbols of how desperate the communist was to feel something other than sorrow and misplaced guilt. He was not one to feel things such as guilt, but he was consumed by such. It was swallowing him whole. He had _become his guilt_.

Commie missed them. He missed beating the fascist’s ass in COD, and the surge of victory that entered his body afterward. He missed debating Ancap, and tormenting him with his own flaws. But, most of all, Commie missed his beloved Ancom. He missed when qui would go on quis incomprehensible tangents about god-knows-what, he missed holding quem tight as he could, he missed quis little gifts that qui would leave in his room. Commie missed Ancom, more than he would ever miss anybody else.

The authoritarian was not whole without the anarchist. He was incomplete, a work in progress, just a fragment. Nothing more. It was _his fault_ his dearest comrade became a post leftist. It was because qui was sick of his bullshit. It was all his fault. Everything.


	3. more than okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oneshot for broadway_hannah  
> TW STAB WOUND  
> i was too lazy to research medical shit sorry  
> basically moralist gets injured from the wound instead of dying and is taken to the extremists house n leftcom (theyre still leftcom in this fic) kisses them lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its in first person i am sorry  
> this sucks ass i dont like it that much

I woke up to three silhouettes looming over me, all dawning what I could assume was a concerned expression. Two of these figures looked unfamiliar or at least somehow mentally distant. One of them, though, was Leftcom. I could recognize their signature hard hat. It was rather lucky that I’d wake up to Leftcom, of all the off compasses. The others seemed vastly more intimidating.

“What happened?”, I croaked. It felt like something was blocking my throat, preventing me from talking. The three people above me were starting to become easier to see, as my vision became less clouded. How long had I been asleep?

”Darwinist stabbed you.” Leftcom spoke with a sort of fragile quality in their voice, like a glass vase shaking on a table, seconds away from shattering.

It took me a second to process it all. I looked down and noticed the searing pain in my side.

Oh, so that’s why I felt so lightheaded.

The two unfamiliar... ideologies(?) sat on the bed, the shorter one examining my wound with both worry and a far off, distant sort of curiosity. The taller one was looking down at me with a vacant almost-pity. Their gazes felt so oddly empty, so far away. Leftcom’s gaze felt so close, so warm. I was unsure what it was.

”Who are the others?”, I whispered, my voice less stuffed this time.

“That one”, the former communalist motioned toward the shorter one, “is Libleft, or just Ancom, qui/quem,” they moved their hands toward the taller one, “and that’s Authleft, or just Commie, he/him.”

The extremists? I thought I’d never come across them.

“Hello.” Ancom waved at me, and I presumed qui was smiling under quis bandana. Commie just nodded his head at me in acknowledgment.

”How long have I been passed out?” Leftcom let out a sharp breath, placing their hand on my own.

”More than a day. We almost thought you were dead.” That fragile, shaky quality returned to their voice yet again. The metaphorical glass vase was wobbling even more than before. “The wound is mostly fine now, it just hurts.”

I sat upright, wincing at the sharp pain that surged through me. Leftcom guided me up, holding my hand. This gesture made me feel an ache in my chest. Why did I always feel that way when Leftcom would do the simplest things to me? The ache also felt... nice? It was warm. Comforting.

”Glad you’re up, comrade.” Commie gave me a small smile. His smile did not quite help me warm up to his imposing, intimidating demeanor.

”Yeah! I’m so glad you’re alive, dude!” Ancom grinned. Qui had a very loud energy, which kind of clashed with my brain a little bit. Something about quem was a bit too much for me. And then Commie was just sort of... unsettling? His eyes were so cold somehow. I wasn’t sure, something about them was making me uneasy .

Leftcom noticed the discomforted expression on my face and leant over.

”Moralist, are you okay?”, they whispered in my ear. _Oh._ I started to feel uncomfortably hot all over, more so than before. What was it?

”Yeah, just.. nervous.” I attempted to make eye contact with them. They just simply nodded, an understanding look in their eye.

“Hey, Moralist is a little nervous. Could y’all leave for a bit?” What? I was not used to this kind of treatment. Leftcom seemed so pretty willing to respect my boundaries. Not many people have done that for me before.

The two leftists seemed to understand, and exited the room, hand in hand.

”They’re so cute together.”, Leftcom murmured.

”Yeah.”

My leftist friend simply sat with me, holding my hand, staring into the vast void of the radio silent bedroom decorated by Soviet propaganda posters. Wide spaces with white walls made me a little afraid sometimes, they always had an unsettling aura. But Leftcom made me feel so safe. I looked over at my friend, and they made eye contact with me. Shoot. I don’t like eye contact, it’s awkward and not easy to maintain. But, their eyes were so nice to look into...

And then, I came to a realization. _I like Leftcom._ More than I initially thought I did. They were so indescribably beautiful, and so kind. They made me feel like the safest person on Earth. I’d give the world to feel their lips on my own.

“Y’know, you’re really pretty, Leftcom.”, I mumbled. It was a sort of foolish of me to say, but I think it paid off.

”You’re prettier.” Leftcom put their free hand around me, and smiled directly at me. Their smile was so incredibly _radiant._ Oh my goodness, they were like the sun. I was absolutely melting at their touch. I just wanted to stay like this forever, goodness.

“I want to stay like this forever.” _Shoot!_ My thoughts slipped out of my mouth. The tension of the atmosphere was so tight now. What would they think? What would they think? My head was spinning in so many circles. What would—

_ Oh. _

Well, my question was answered in an unexpected way. Leftcom carefully held my shoulder to give me a quick peck on the cheek. It went by so fast, but that was the most bliss I’d ever felt in my life. My mind was rotating, everything slowly became out of focus except for Leftcom. It didn’t even feel _real_.

I returned the favor, and well, that was that. I cannot imagine how flustered and pink my face was in the moment. The world around me was spinning so fast that my brain couldn’t even catch up.

”Are you okay?”

”More than okay.”


End file.
